your man. I will not
advise the brave Berlin people to yield without having at least fought
for their freedom."

"But only reflect!" exclaimed Kretschmer, while Krause paced up
and down, wringing his hands and moaning in a low tone; "have you
forgotten that the Russian generals have proclaimed that the
empress has commanded them to leave nothing but air and earth to the
inhabitants of every conquered town and province of Prussia?"

"Oh, pshaw!" cried Gotzkowsky, laughing, "they will have to conclude
to leave us something more."

"And did you hear London's terrible threat? He has said his soldiers
should massacre every one, and not spare even the child in its
mother's womb."

"And did you not hear the brave Schwerin's answer to this Austrian
bravado?" asked Gotzkowsky. "He said, 'My soldiers are not with
child, neither am I.' Well, our men of Berlin are not with child, and
therefore they need not be afraid."

"But you must be afraid!" whined Krause. "It is disgraceful madness
not to be afraid. How! You can be so unreasonable as to advise war?
But war is the most bitter enemy of prosperity, and threatens property
above all things."

"Then shame on the proprietors," cried Gotzkowsky, "if their property
is to make cowardly poltroons of them! Liberty is our greatest
possession, and all else must yield to it."

At this moment loud cries and sounds of wailing were heard in the
garden from the collected workmen, who surrounded the prophet in a
dense group, and listened to his prophecies with anxious wonder as he
uttered them from a high bench.

Gotzkowsky frowned. "Ah, I understand!" said he, "this good
linen-weaver is your accomplice, my brave gentlemen, and as you wish
to convert me, so does he wish to convert my honest workmen into old
women. Let us see first in what sort of gibberish he preaches his
wisdom to these good people."

Without taking any further notice of the two editors, Gotzkowsky left
the summer-house rapidly and approached the listening multitude.

* * * * *

CHAPTER VIII.

THE LEADER OF THE PEOPLE.

The inspired prophet stood on a bench, and, as he unrolled his
pictures, he endeavored to explain these mystical paintings to his
devout gazers and listeners in equally mystical language. Gotzkowsky
hastened toward this group, and pressed in silent observation close up
to Pfannenstiel's side.

The linen-weaver, wholly possessed by his prophetic god, had